Boston is in crisis. The old folks have take over the local arts papers and they're hanging onto a phrase as vague and meaningless as we've ever heard. "Post-Nirvana" has saturated the pages of The Boston Phoenix, and any band bearing the simplicity of guitar, bass, and drums has been deamed so. Something over-schooled and under educated has come forth to threaten the worth of original music, and nobody's lifting a finger in protest.
Recently, I was reading a cd review in the Boston Phoenix entitled "Gesture and hum - Orbit are not original , but that's not bad" (02/21/97). This shambles of a criticism was written by a Mr. Richard C. Walls . The author wrote of a band composed entirely of influence and borrowed song structures. Yet, the further I read, the more I became convinced that it was the critic who was feeding from the left overs of yester-year, and that it was the critic who was un-original in his style of writing.
So, here we have another bumbling critic, slinging comparisons between one band's sound and another's, blindly calling it a review. Just what we need.
Yet, all of this poor writing, in its sheepish technique, may have been palatable if Walls could have only gotten the album title right. But, with such concerted concentration on the "unoriginality" of the group, it appears he failed to take a look at the cover of the album. Had Walls paid much attention to the packaging of the cd, he would have at least noticed that its title is "Libido Speedway" and not "Libido Highway."
This grand folly with the title lead me to question what else Walls might have missed. Other than missing the entire point of the album, we may not know for certain.
What is for certain, however, is that Libido Speedway is undoubtedly Orbit's most polished release to date. The disc kicks off with all the punch of peeling out of your dad's driveway with the car for the night. There's the slight studio patter of the band talking ("Thanks for the keys, dad."), a forceful guitar riff is repeated, maybe three times, (the car door slams shut), the bass and drums kick in, and you're off!
For the remainder of this disc, the romatic darkness of night driving is maintained. While the album emits a definite feeling of speeding down a desolate highway, it certainly cannot be said that this is a somber album. This is a chronicle of love, lust, and the imperfections of relationships.
Libido Speedway, despite what R.C. Walls says, is original for the simple fact that each instrument is distinguishable from the rest. Whether you refer to the boyish musings of "bicycle song" (track #2), or to the cd's most recognized single, "medicine" (track #5), you can easily determine which instrument is doing what.
As for apparent influences in Orbit's music, Walls was not entirely incorrect in mentioning the sometimes surf rock feel of the guitar and drums. However, it should be noted that every song varies, and that there is a very personalized feel to whatever influences do surface in this disc. Whatever has come to be with this release is unarguably Orbit's own concoction and not some cut and paste creation, as the aforementioned reviewer would have us believe.
Influences, as any thinking person might concieve, are undeniable. That is unless of course their is some rare breed of man on a remote island that has been mysteriously air-lifted instruments, and has no contact with the outside world. This may be so, but until this superhuman band reaches the mainland, Richard C. Walls and the rest of us will have to deal with those bands tainted with biased musical preferences.
With all this said, you can decide for yourself by checking out Orbit's Libido Speedway (A&M). If you like this, check out their first release (la mano), an ep recorded in drummer, Paul Buckley's living room. If you're looking to see a live show, a list of Orbit's national concert dates is available by calling (617) 589-9113.